Wizard's First Rule

Chapter 33

Rachel sat on her little chair behind the Princess, knocking her knees together, thinking about how she would get the Princess to put her out so she could take the box away with her and never come back. She kept thinking about the loaf of bread with the box in it, waiting for her in the garden. She was afraid, but excited, too. Excited that she was going to be helping all those people so they wouldn’t get their heads chopped off. It was the first time she had ever felt like an important person. She twisted the hem of her dress. She could hardly wait to get away.

All the lords and ladies were drinking their special drink. They all seemed happy to be doing it. Giller was standing behind the Queen with her other advisors. He was talking quietly to the court artist. She didn’t like the artist, he scared her, he always smiled funny at her. And he only had one hand. She had heard the servants talking before, that they were afraid the artist would draw a picture of them.

The people started getting scared looks on their faces. They were looking at the Queen. They started to stand up. Rachel looked over at the Queen and saw that the people weren’t looking at her, they were looking at something else, behind her. Her eyes got wide when she saw the two big men.

They were the biggest men she had ever seen. Their shirts didn’t have sleeves but their arms had metal bands on them, with sharp things sticking out. The men had big muscles all over, and yellow hair. They looked like the meanest men she had ever seen, meaner even than any of the dungeon guards. The men looked around the room at the people, then went and stood on each side of the big archway behind the Queen and folded their arms. The Queen huffed and turned around in her chair to see what was happening.

A man with blue eyes, and long yellow hair and white robes, and a gold-handled knife at his belt, came through the archway. He was the handsomest-looking man she had ever seen. He smiled at the Queen. She jumped to her feet.

“What an unexpected surprise!” she said in her nicest dog voice. “We are honored. But we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

The man again smiled a pretty smile at her. “I couldn’t wait to get here, to see your lovely face again. Forgive me for being early, Your Majesty.”

The Queen giggled as she held her hand out for him to kiss. She was always having people kiss her hand. Rachel was surprised at what the nice-looking man had said. She never knew anyone who thought the Queen was lovely. The Queen took his hand in hers and brought him forward.

“Lords and ladies, may I introduce Father Rahl.”

Father Rahl! She looked around to see if anyone had seen her jump, but no one had—they were all looking at Father Rahl. She was sure he was going to look at her, and see that she was going to run away with the box. She looked at Giller, but he didn’t look back. His face was white. Father Rahl was here before she had run away with the box! What was she going to do?

She was going to do what Giller had told her to do, that’s what. She was going to be brave and save all those people. She had to think of a way to get out.

Father Rahl looked around at all the people who were standing up now. The little dog barked. He turned to the source of the sound and it stopped barking—instead it began to whine softly. He turned back to the people. It got real quiet.

“Dinner is over. You will excuse us now,” he said in a soft voice.

Everyone started whispering. His blue eyes watched. The whispering stopped and they started to leave, first slow, then faster. Father Rahl looked at some of the royal advisors, and they left, looking glad to be doing it. A few he didn’t look at, including Giller, stayed. Princess Violet stayed, too, and Rachel tried to stay behind her so she wouldn’t be noticed. The Queen smiled and held her arm out to the table.

“Won’t you sit, Father Rahl, I’m sure you have had a strenuous journey. Let us bring you something to eat. We have a lovely roast tonight.”

He looked at her with blue eyes that didn’t blink. “I don’t approve of butchering helpless animals and then consuming their flesh.”

Rachel thought the Queen was going to choke. “Well, then . . . we also have a lovely turnip soup, and some other things, I’m sure . . . there must be something . . . if there isn’t, the cooks, will make whatever . . .”

“Perhaps some other time. I am not here to eat, I am here for your contribution to the alliance.”

“But . . . this is sooner than expected, we haven’t finished drawing up the agreements, there are many papers to be signed, and you will want to have them looked over first, surely.”

“I will be only too happy to sign anything you have ready, and offer my word that I will sign whatever additional documents you might have drawn up. I trust your honesty to deal with me fairly.” He smiled. “You don’t have any intention of tricking me somehow with these agreements, do you?”

“Well, no, Father Rahl, of course not. Of course not.”

“There you have it, then. Why would I need anyone to look over these papers, if you are being fair with me? You are being fair, you say?”

“Well, of course I am. I guess there is no need . . . but this is most unusual.”

“So is our alliance. Let’s be on with it, then.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” She turned to one of her advisors. “Go get whatever of the alliance treaty you have ready and bring it. Bring ink and pens. And my seal.” He bowed and left. The Queen turned to Giller. “Wherever you have secreted the box, go and get it.”

He bowed. “Of course, Your Majesty.” Rachel felt alone and afraid when she saw him go through the door, his silver robes flying behind him.

While they waited, the Queen introduced the Princess to Father Rahl. Rachel stood behind Princess Violet’s chair after she went to have her hand kissed. Father Rahl bowed to her and kissed her hand and told her how she was as pretty as her mother. The Princess grinned and grinned and held the hand he had kissed to her breast.

The advisor came back with his helpers—they each carried armfuls of papers. They moved plates aside and laid the papers all over the head table, pointing to where the Queen and Father Rahl should sign their names. One of the helpers dripped red wax on the papers, and the Queen pressed her seal into it. Father Rahl said he didn’t have a seal, and that his written name would do, that he was sure he would recognize his own writing in the future. When Giller came back, he stood off to the side and waited until they finished. The men started gathering up all the papers, arguing with each other about which order they went in. The Queen motioned Giller forward.

“Father Rahl,” Giller said with his finest smile, “may I present you with Queen Milena’s box of Orden.” He held the fake box out in both hands, careful, just as if it were the real one. The jewels all sparkled real pretty.

Father Rahl smiled a little smile as he reached out and carefully lifted the box from Giller’s hands. He turned it around a minute, looking at the pretty jewels. Then he motioned one of the big men with all the muscles to come forward. When he did, Father Rahl looked him in the eye and handed him the box.

With one hand, the man squeezed the box. It shattered. The Queen’s eyes got real big.

“What is the meaning of this!” she asked.

Father Rahl’s face got scary-looking. “That would be my question, Your Majesty. This box is a counterfeit.”

“Why, that’s simply not possible . . . there is no way . . . I know for a fact . . .” The Queen turned her head to Giller. “Giller! What do you know of this?”

He held his hands in the opposite sleeves of his robes. “Your Majesty . . . I don’t understand . . . no one has tampered with the magic seal, I saw to that myself. I assure you, this is the same box I have guarded ever since you put it in my hands. It must have been a fake from the first. We have been tricked. That is the only possible explanation.”

Father Rahl’s blue eyes stayed on the wizard the whole time he talked. Then they slid to one of his men. The man came and grabbed the robes at the back of Giller’s neck. He lifted Giller off the ground with that one hand.

“What are you doing! Let go of me, you big ox! Have respect for a wizard or you will regret it. I can assure you!” His feet were dangling in the air.

Rachel had a lump in her throat, tears in her eyes. She tried to be brave and not cry. She knew that if she did, they might notice her.

Father Rahl licked his fingertips. “Not the only possible explanation, wizard. The real box has magic, a particular type of magic. The magic of this box is wrong. A Queen would not be able to see it, to know if it was the real box. But a wizard would.”

Father Rahl smiled a small smile to the Queen. “The wizard and I are going to go now, and have a private conversation.” He turned and walked out of the room, white robes flying behind him. The man holding Giller up in the air followed Father Rahl. The other man stepped in front of the door and folded his arms. Giller’s feet didn’t touch the ground as he was carried away.

Rachel wanted to run after Giller, she was so scared for him. She saw his head turn back and look at the people. His dark eyes were wide, and for a second, they looked right at her, right into her eyes. When they did, she heard his voice in her head, as clear as if he had yelled to her. The voice in her head screamed only one word.

Run.

Then he was gone. Rachel wanted to cry. Instead, she sucked the hem of her dress. All the people around the Queen started talking at once. James, the court artist, started picking up some of the pieces of the fake box, turning them over in his one hand, looking at them, holding them against the stump of his other. Princess Violet took one of the big pieces from him and looked at the jewels, running her fingers over them.

Rachel kept remembering the voice in her head, Giller’s voice, yelling at her to run. She looked around—no one was paying any attention to her. She went around the tables, keeping her head down, below the tabletops, so they wouldn’t be able to see her. When she got to the other side of the room, she poked her head up to see if anyone was looking. They weren’t.

She reached up and took some food off the plates: a piece of meat, three bread rolls, and a big piece of hard cheese. She stuffed them all in her pockets, then checked the people again.

Then she ran for the hall. She kept herself from getting tears, to be brave for Giller. Her bare feet ran down the carpets, past the picture rugs hanging on the walls. Before she got to the guards at the doors, she slowed down, so they wouldn’t see her running. When they saw her coming, they pulled up the big bolt and didn’t say anything as she went through the door. The guards on the outside of the door just glanced at her as she came through, then looked back out, watching the grounds.

Rachel wiped some tears off her face as she went down the cold stone steps. She had tried to keep them from coming, but a few got out before she could stop them. The guards on patrol ignored her as she walked fast over the cobblestones, toward the garden.

Away from the torches hung on the walls outside the castle it was dark, but she knew her way. The grass was wet on her bare feet. At the third urn, she knelt down, looking to see that no one was watching, then reached under the flowers. She felt the cloth around the bread, and pulled it out. Untying the knots, she laid the four corners back, then reached in her pockets and put the meat, the three hard rolls, and the cheese on top of the bread and tied the corners of the cloth back up.

Just before she started running for the outer-wall gate, she remembered, and made a little gasp. She froze stiff, her eyes wide.

She had forgotten Sara. Her doll was still in her sleeping box! Princess Violet would find her doll, she would throw Sara in the fire! Rachel couldn’t leave her doll there—she was running away and not coming back. Sara would be afraid without her. Sara would get burned up.

She pushed the bundle with the bread back under the flowers, looked around, and ran for the castle. She had to slow down and walk when she got close, back into the torchlight. One of the guards at the door looked down at her.

“I just let you out,” he said.

She swallowed hard. “I know. But now I have to go back in for a few minutes.”

“Forget something?”

She nodded and managed to make herself say, “Yes.”

He shook his head and lifted the little window. “Open the door,” he said to the guard inside. She heard the heavy bolt open.

Once back inside, she looked down the hall. The big room with the black-and-white floor and the grand stairs was ahead, a few turns down some long halls and through a couple of big rooms. One of the big rooms was the dining room. That was the shortest way. But the Queen, or the Princess, might be there, or even Father Rahl. They might see her. She couldn’t let them see her. Princess Violet might take her up to her room and lock her in the sleeping box—it was late.

She turned and went through the little door on the right. That was the servants’ passageway. It was a lot longer, but no one important would be in the servant halls or on the servant stairs. None of the servants would stop her—they all knew she was the Princess’s playmate, and they didn’t want the Princess mad at them. She would have to go down through the place where the servants stayed, down under the big rooms and under the kitchen.

The stairs were all stone, worn smooth on the front edges. One window at the top was uncovered and it let in rain, and the steps always had water leaking from the stone walls, running down them. Some places it was just a little, some places more, and there was green slime on some of the steps. She always had to step careful to keep from stepping in the slime. Torches in iron brackets made the stone and the steps look red and yellow.

There were some people in the halls on the bottom floor, servants carrying linens and blankets, washwomen with buckets of water and mops, and men carrying bundles of firewood for the fireplaces upstairs. Some of the people stopped and whispered to each other. They seemed excited. She heard Giller’s name and it made her get a lump in her throat.

When she went past the servants’ quarters, all the oil lamps were burning, hung from the big beams of the low ceilings, and there were bunches of people gathered around, telling each other what they had seen. Rachel saw one of the men talking loud, with mostly women, but some men, too, standing around him. It was Mr. Sanders, the man who wore the fancy coat and greeted the fine ladies and gentlemen when they came to dinner, and announced their names when they came in.

“Heard it myself, from those two that stand watch over the dining room. You know who I’m talking about, the young one, Frank and the other, with the limp, Jenkins. Said the D’Haran guards told them personal that there’s going to be a search of the castle, top to bottom.”

“What’re they lookin’ for?” a woman asked.

“Don’t know. Least they didn’t tell Frank and Jenkins. But I wouldn’t want to be the one that had whatever they’re after. Those men from D’Hara could give you nightmares when you were wide awake.”

“Wish they’d find whatever it is under Violet’s bed,” somebody else said. “It’d do her up right to get a nightmare for a change, ’stead of givin’ ’em.” Everyone laughed.

Rachel went on, through the big storeroom with all the columns. Barrels were on one side, all piled up in rows on top of one another—boxes and crates and sacks were stacked up on the other side. The room smelled damp and musty, and she could always hear mice scratching about. She went down the middle, past the lamps hung on the side of columns, to the heavy door at the other end. The iron strap hinges creaked when she strained and pulled on the iron ring and opened the door. Rust from the ring got on her hands, so she wiped them on the stone. Another big door to the right led to the dungeon. She went up the stairway. It was dark, with only one torch at the top, and she could hear water go plink, plink, plink and echo. Through the door at the top that stood open a crack, she went down the stone block halls like the wind that was always in them. She was too scared to cry. She wanted Sara to be safe, with her, and away from here.

On the top floor, at last, she peeked her head around the door, looking up and down the hall that ran past Princess Violet’s room. The hall was empty. Tiptoeing across the carpet with the pictures of the boats on it, she reached the entryway set back from the hall. She snuck into it, checking the hall again. Carefully, she opened the door a sliver. The room was dark. She slipped in and shut the door tight.

There was a fire in the fireplace, but no lamps were lit. She sneaked across the floor, feeling the fur rug on her bare feet. She got down on her hands and knees and crept into her sleeping box, and pulled the blanket back with one hand. She gasped. Sara wasn’t there. She felt just as if a cold wind had blown across her skin.

“Looking for something?” It was Princess Violet’s voice.

For a minute, she couldn’t move. She started to breathe hard, but she kept the tears from coming. She couldn’t let Princess Violet see her cry. She backed out of the box and saw there was a black form standing in front of the fire. It was the Princess. She took a step forward, away from the fireplace, toward Rachel. Her hands were behind her back. Rachel couldn’t see what she had.

“I was just coming up to get in my box. To go to sleep.”

“Is that so.” Rachel could see better in the dark now, could see the smile on Princess Violet’s face. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for this, would you?”

She slowly pulled her hands out from behind her back. She had Sara. Rachel’s eyes went wide and she suddenly felt like she had to go potty.

“Princess Violet, please . . .” she whined. Her hands reached out, pleading.

“Come here, and we’ll talk about it.”

Rachel stepped slowly to the Princess, stopping in front of her, twisting her finger in the hem of her dress. The Princess suddenly slapped her, harder than she had ever slapped her before. It was so hard that it made Rachel give out a little scream as she was knocked a step backward. She put her left hand over the stinging pain. Tears welled up in her eyes. She jammed her fist into her pocket, determined that she would not cry this time.

The Princess stepped to her and hit her across the other cheek with the back of her hand. Her knuckles hurt more than the first slap. Rachel gritted her teeth and clutched her fist around something in her pocket to keep from letting the tears come.

Princess Violet stepped back to the fireplace. “What did I tell you I would do if you ever had a doll?”

“Princess Violet, please don’t . . .” She was shaking because her face hurt so much, and because she was so scared. “Please, let me keep her? She’s no harm to you.”

The Princess laughed her awful laugh. “No. I’m going to throw it in the fire, just like I told you I would. To teach you a lesson. What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have a name.”

“Well, no matter, she’ll burn just as well.”

She turned around to the fire. Rachel’s fist was still clutched around the thing in her pocket. It was the magic fire stick Giller had given her. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at it.

“Don’t you dare throw my doll in the fire or you’ll be sorry!”

The Princess spun around. “What did you say? How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice. You’re just a nobody. I’m a Princess.”

Rachel touched the magic fire stick to the doily on a small round marble table next to her. “Light for me,” she whispered.

The doily burst into flames. The Princess’s face looked surprised. Rachel touched the fire stick to a book on a short marble table. She looked quickly to the Princess’s eyes to make sure she was watching, then whispered again, and with a roar it, too, burst into flames. Princess Violet’s eyes were wide. Rachel picked up the book by a corner and threw it in the fireplace while the Princess watched her. Rachel spun around, took a step, and put the fire stick against the Princess.

“Give me my doll, or I’ll burn you up.”

“You wouldn’t dare . . .”

“Right now! If you don’t, I’ll set you on fire, and your skin will burn up.”

Princess Violet pushed the doll at her. “Here. Please, Rachel, don’t burn me. I’m afraid of fire.”

Rachel took the doll with her left hand, hugging it to her, still holding the fire stick against the Princess. Rachel was starting to feel sorry for her. Then she thought about how much her face hurt. More than it had ever hurt before.

“Let’s just forget all about this, Rachel. You may keep the doll, all right?” Her voice was getting real nice now, not mean like before.

Rachel knew it was a trick. As soon as there were guards around, she knew the Princess would say to chop her head off. Then Princess Violet would really laugh at her, and burn Sara up too.

“Get in the box,” Rachel said. “Then you can see how you like it.”

“What!”

Rachel pushed the fire stick a little harder. “Right now, or I’ll burn you up.”

Princess Violet walked across the floor slow, with the fire stick at her back. “Rachel, think about what you’re doing, are you really . . .”

“Be quiet and get inside. Unless you want me to burn you.”

The Princess got down on her knees and crawled inside. Rachel looked in at her.

“Go to the back.”

She did as she was told. Rachel shut the door with a clang and went to the drawer and got the key. She locked the iron door on the iron box, then put the key in her pocket. She got down on her knees and looked inside through the little window. She could hardly see the Princess’s eyes looking back in the dark.

“Good night, Violet. Go to sleep. I’m going to sleep in your bed tonight. I’m sick of your voice. If you make any noise at all, I’ll come over and light your skin on fire. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” came back the weak voice from the dark hole in the door.

Rachel set Sara down while she pulled the fur rug close and turned it over on the box, covering it all up. She went and bounced on the bed to make it squeak, to make Princess Violet think she was going to sleep in it.

Rachel smiled and tiptoed all the way to the door as she hugged Sara.

After she had gone all the way back the way she had come, through the servants’ passageways and to the door at the end, she looked carefully into the hall, and went down to the big door with the guards. Rachel didn’t say anything. She couldn’t think of anything to say—she just stood and waited for them to open the door.

“So that’s it, a doll you forgot,” the guard said.

She just nodded.

She heard the door clang shut behind as she went into the dark, to the garden. There were more guards than she was used to seeing. The regular guards had new ones with them, dressed different. The new ones looked at her more than the old ones did, and she could hear the regular ones telling them who she was. She tried not to let them see her looking back as she walked with her doll, holding it tight against her, trying to keep her feet from running.

The bundle with the bread with the box in it was where she had left it, under the flowers. Rachel pulled it out, holding it in one hand by the knot, while she held Sara to her chest with her other. As she walked through the garden, she wondered if Princess Violet still thought she was sleeping in the big bed, or if she knew it was a trick and was yelling for help. If she yelled for help, and the guards had come and found her in the box, they might already be looking for her. She had had to go the long way—it had taken a lot of time for her legs to take her under the whole castle and back up again. Rachel listened carefully for shouts, to see if they were looking for her yet.

She could hardly breathe, hoping she could get out of the castle before they chased after her. She remembered Mr. Sanders saying they were going to search the castle. She knew what they were looking for. They wanted the box. She had promised Giller she would get it away, so they couldn’t have it and hurt all those people.

A lot of men were on the walk at the top of the wall. When she got almost to the door through the wall, she slowed down. Before, there were always two of the Queen’s guards there. Now there were three men. Two she recognized—they wore the red tunics with the black wolf’s head, the Queen’s guard—but the other was dressed different, in dark leather, and he was a lot bigger. He was one of the new men. Rachel didn’t know if she should keep going or run away. But run away where? She had to get through the wall before she could really run away.

Before she could decide what to do, they saw her, so she kept going. One of the regular guards turned to lift the bolt. The new man put his arm up to stop him.

“It’s just the Princess’s playmate. The Princess puts her out sometimes.”

“No one goes out,” the new man said to him.

The regular guards stopped opening the door. “Sorry, little one, but you heard him, no one goes out.”

Rachel stood there with her mouth stuck shut. Her eyes stared at the new man while he looked down at her. She swallowed. Giller was depending on her to get the box out. There was no other way out. She tried to think what Giller would do.

“Well, all right,” she said at last, “it’s cold tonight, I’d rather stay in anyway.”

“Well, there you go then. You get to stay in tonight,” the regular guard said.

“What’s you name?” Rachel asked.

He looked a little surprised. “Queen’s lancer Reid.”

With her doll in her hand, Rachel pointed at the other regular guard. “What’s yours?”

“Queen’s lancer Walcott.”

“Queen’s lancer Reid and Queen’s lancer Walcott,” she repeated to herself. “All right, I think I can remember.” She pointed at the new man, the doll swinging back and forth by its arm when she did. “And what’s your name?”

He hooked his thumbs in his belt. “What do you want to know for?”

She hugged Sara back to her chest. “Well, the Princess yelled at me, to tell me to be put out tonight. If I don’t go out, she’ll be spitting mad, and want to chop my head off for not doing as she said, so I want to tell her who wouldn’t let me be put out. I want your names so she won’t think I’m making it up, so she can come and ask you herself. She scares me. She’s been starting to say to have people’s heads chopped off.”

All three of them stood back up a little and looked at each other. “That’s true enough,” Queen’s lancer Reid said to the new man. “The Princess is turning into her mother’s daughter. A little handful, what with the Queen letting her cut her teeth on the axe now.”

“No one goes out, those are our orders,” the new man repeated.

“Well, the two of us are for doing as the Princess orders.” Queen’s lancer Reid turned a little and spat. “Now, if you want her kept in, that’s fine by us, so long as it’s clear whose neck’s on the block. If it comes down to it, we told you to let her out, just like the Princess said. We’re not going to the block with you.” The other guard, Walcott, nodded that he agreed. “Not for the threat from a little girl, no taller than that.” He held his hand out, level with the top of her head. “I’ll not tell them we three big strong soldiers all agreed we thought she was dangerous. It’s your call, but it’ll be your head, not ours, if you go against the Princess. You’ll answer to the Queen’s axeman, not us.”

The new man looked down at her—he seemed a little mad. He looked back at the other two a minute, then down at her again. “Well, it’s obvious she’s no threat. The orders were meant to protect from threat, so I guess . . .”

Queen’s lancer Walcott started lifting up the heavy bolt on the door.

“But I want to know what she’s got there,” the new man said.

“Just my supper and my doll,” Rachel said, trying to make it sound unimportant.

“Let’s have a look.”

Rachel laid the bundle down on the ground and untied the knots, laying the corners back. She handed Sara up to him.

He took Sara in his big hand, turning her around, looking. He turned her upside down and lifted her dress with his big finger. Rachel kicked him in the leg, hard as she could.

“Don’t you do that! Don’t you have no respect?” she yelled.

The other two guards laughed. “You find anything dangerous under there?” Queen’s lancer Reid asked.

The new man looked over at the other two, handing Sara back down to her. “What else have you got there?”

“I told you. My supper.”

He started to bend over. “Well, a little thing like you has no need for a whole loaf of bread.”

“That’s mine!” she yelled. “Leave it be!”

“Leave it alone,” Queen’s lancer Walcott told the new man.

“She gets little enough. It look to you like the Princess overfeed her?”

The new man straightened up. “I guess not.” He let out a deep breath. “Go on. Get out of here.”

Rachel tied the cloth back over the bread and other food as fast as she could. She held Sara tight to her with one hand, and held the bundle just as tight with the other as she went between the men’s legs and out the door.

When she heard it clang shut, she started running. She ran fast as she could, not looking back, too afraid to know for sure it anyone was chasing her. After a time, she had to know, and finally stopped to check. No one. Out of breath, she sat down to rest on a fat root in the path.

She could see the outline of the castle against the starry sky, the notched top edge of the wall, the towers with lights in them. She was never going back there again, never. Her and Giller were going to run away to where people were nice and they were never going to come back. While she was panting, she heard a voice.

“Rachel?” It was Sara, she realized.

She laid Sara in her lap, on top of the bundle. “We’re safe now, Sara. We got away.”

Sara smiled. “I’m so glad, Rachel.”

“We’re never going back to that mean place again.”

“Rachel, Giller wants you to know something.”

She had to lean close—she could hardly hear Sara’s voice. “What?”

“That he can’t come with you. You must go on without him.”

Rachel started to get tears. “But I want him to come with me.”

“He would like to, more than anything, child, but he must stay and keep them from finding you, so you can get away. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

“But I’ll be afraid by myself.”

“You won’t be by yourself, Rachel, you will have me with you. Always.”

“But what am I to do? Where am I to go?”

“You must run away. Giller says not to go to your old wayward pine, they will find you there.” Rachel’s eyes got big when she heard this. “Go to a different wayward pine, then the next day, another, just keep running away and hiding until the winter comes. Then find some nice people who will take good care of you.”

“All right, if Giller says so, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Rachel, Giller wants you to know he loves you.”

“I love Giller too,” Rachel said, “more than anything.”

The doll smiled.

All at once, the woods lit up with blue and yellow light. She looked up. Then came a sudden loud bang that made her jump. Her mouth dropped open—her eyes were wide as they would go.

A giant ball of fire came up from the castle, from behind the walls.

The ball of fire lifted into the air. Sparks dropped from it, and black smoke rolled away. The fire turned to black smoke as it went higher, until it was all dark again.

“Did you see that?” she asked Sara.

Sara didn’t say anything.

“I hope Giller is all right.”

She looked down at the doll, but she didn’t say anything, or even smile back.

Rachel hugged Sara to her and, picked up the bundle.

“We better get going, like Giller said.”

When she went past the lake, she threw the key to her sleeping box as far as she could, out into the water, and smiled when she heard it splash.

Sara didn’t say anything as they rushed away from the castle, down the path. Rachel remembered what Giller said, that she shouldn’t go to the same wayward pine. She turned and went down a deer trail, through the bramble, in a new direction.

West.